


Draco Bakes a Cake

by ladyroxanne21



Series: Eloped?! [10]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Mention of past Mpreg, More cake than anyone should ever be exposed to!, a smidgeon of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 06:21:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11663391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyroxanne21/pseuds/ladyroxanne21
Summary: Draco decides that the best way to celebrate Harry's birthday is to bake him a cake. By hand. Without help! :-D





	Draco Bakes a Cake

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Party For Potter, surprise birthday bash on LJ :-)

Draco frowned as he contemplated the book. The _cook_ book. It was a simple muggle cook book that he'd borrowed from Hermione, but it showed a person how to bake a wide variety of cakes.

Last year on Harry's birthday, they were still new(ish) to being married, despite having accidentally eloped ten years prior when they were 16. Plus, Harry had been roughly three months pregnant and Draco was drving himself mad reading all the books and information he could get his hands on in regards to wizarding pregnancy, pregnancy in general, and every possible thing that could go wrong during delivery – when the time came. Thus, he hadn't given much thought to Harry's birthday until the day came and Draco realized that Harry had baked himself a cake to go along with all the food and desserts Molly had made.

It was then that Draco felt a bit stupid. Harry cooked all their dinners – well _most_ of their dinners. They went out to dinner at a restaurant or dined at the Burrow or with friends on occasion. Other than that, Harry cooked because he loved doing it so much. He also baked desserts of every variety that were all so good that Draco had serious trouble _not_ gaining weight like a pig. He'd put on a good stone when Harry was pregnant and craving sweets like they were made of child building nutrients. In point of fact, they were not – which Draco gently tried to point out at every opportunity. Harry did not take kindly to this and argued that he baked everything himself with real ingredients, and so the treats actually did have nutrition to them.

That was a fight that Draco eventually gave up simply because Harry was also eating plenty of good food as well. Prime rib had become Harry's favorite meal – so much so that Draco had shockingly grown tired of eating it.

But none of that was the point. The _point_ was that Draco still felt bad for not making something special for Harry's birthday and he was _determined_ to do so this year. No matter what it took!

He smiled and thanked his lucky constellation that he'd had the foresight to spell the book indestructable as his six month old twins tried to tear pages out. “No Scorpius, Albus! Be nice to the book. Papa needs that to make daddy something special. What do you two think? Would daddy prefer a simple chocolate cake? Or would he want something a bit more complicated such as a spice cake with cherries?”

The babies both made noises of enthusiasm that Draco interpreted as general eagerness to eat. He chuckled and tickled them. “How am I ever going to get anything done with you two 'helping' me?”

Albus bounced on Draco's lap and tried once more to tear a page from the book. He then leaned forward and tried to eat the book. Draco shook his head and decided that it was time to feed the boys again.

“Kreacher? Can you take Albus from me and feed him some of the steamed mashed veggies that Harry made?”

“Of course, Master,” Kreacher stated as he popped into the kitchen.

“Muffy!” Draco then called out, prompting his personal elf to pop into the room too. “I need some time to bake, so could you feed Scorpius for me?”

“Certainly, Master,” Muffy murmured, clearly delighted to get her hands on the baby.

“The steamed mashed veggies are in the stasis box,” Draco reminded her, although he was sure Kreacher would have showed her.

Draco pushed up his glasses – that he wore in secret whenever Harry wasn't around to see them – and took a good look at his appearance. He was as immaculate as always, wearing a set of bespoke casual robes in blue that made him look good. “I wonder if I should roll up my sleeves?” He asked himself softly before deciding that this couldn't be too different than making a potion, thus he should be just fine the way he was.

A silvery stag burst into the kitchen, startling Draco for just a moment before delivering a message in Harry's own voice. “I'm just letting you know that I've settled into my hotel room. The Spanish Aurors assure me that this case shouldn't take too long. They only called me in to consult because I'm, well, me. If I'd known that, I'd've stayed home! But since I'm already here, I really hope this won't take more than a few days. I'll keep you posted!”

Draco smiled wistfully at his boys as the stag disappeared. Both were leaning over the side of their high chairs, trying to get their cute and chubby hands on the ephemeral animal. “Hear that? Daddy says he shouldn't be gone long.”

Proudly – still a little in awe that Harry had managed to teach him the spell – Draco cast a Patronus Charm and watched the approximately two foot by two foot – with another two feet of tail – dragon fly around the room lookin for danger before hovering in front of him. As much as he preferred their communication necklaces, they didn't have the range a Patronus did, so Draco said:

“Tell Harry: I'm glad that the case doesn't sound too serious – you know how I worry. Tell the Spanish Aurors that you're working with that you had better come home in time for your birthday or I'll come over there and hex each and every one of them in their sleep! Still haven't decided if I want to use a bone grinding hex or a blood boiling one, but either way, it won't be pleasant.”

The dragon flew off and the kitchen was relatively quiet for a few minutes as Draco flipped through the cook book some more in an attempt to decide which cake to bake. The more he thought about it, the more certain he was that a simple chocolate cake would probably be easiest. As expected, the stag returned.

“Draco! You can't go around threatening to hex Aurors! As Deputy Head, I'd be obligated to arrest you and throw you in Azkaban! But I know you well enough by now to know that that was simply code for: I miss you so much that I can't speak civilly – So, I'll ignore the threat for now. I miss you too, you snarky bastard.”

Grinning, Draco cast another Patronus Charm. “I was quite serious. I expect you back here for your birthday or there will be unpleasant consequences. Don't worry, I'll have a rock solid alibi and make sure that my fingerprints are _not_ on the guilty wand.”

Just as Draco was gathering up the ingredients for the cake, the stag returned, growling: “ _Draco..._ ”

Laughing, Draco cast a Patronus to reply. “What? You can't interpret that to mean: I love you, you arrogant bastard, and I will never forgive you if you get yourself hurt while in Spain on a case? Let me know if Spain is worth visiting; maybe we can plan a holiday there.”

Now that all of the ingredients were spread out before him, Draco grabbed a bowl and all the other utensils that he'd need, pushing his glasses up again since they had a habit of sliding down. They were solid gold and looked rather good on him – _not_ that he'd let anyone see them.

“Gotta go! Talk more later!” Harry's stag informed him.

Draco sighed in disappointment. He'd actually been having fun with the long distance chat. Loud fussing distracted him.

“Master, young Master Scorpius is refusing to eat,” Muffy explained when Draco witnessed Scorpius grab the silver spoon out of Muffy's hand and throw it across the room. Muffy promptly vanished the mess and summoned the spoon.

“Try giving him a bottle of milk,” Draco suggested, gesturing to the stasis box, where quite a bit of breast milk was waiting to be fed to the babies. Some of it was from Luna, but the rest of it was actually from generations of Malfoys – who always stored their excess with powerful stasis charms in case a mother was unable to produce milk or died in childbirth.

Muffy did just that and Scorpius drank the milk with gusto. Soon enough, the twins were both rubbing their eyes and yawning. Albus fussed, trying to steal the bottle from his brother. Kreacher gave him one of his own, and then the elves paced circles around the kitchen, gently bouncing and crooning the babies to sleep.

Draco shuddered lightly and tried his best to ignore the fact that Kreacher sounded like a cat being strangled as he sang. The important thing was that the boys were comforted by how he sounded. Thankfully, Muffy sounded _so much_ better! Unless Draco was simply used to her singing to him from when he was a baby and didn't know any better.

Focusing on his task, Draco very carefully measured out _exact_ quantities of each ingredient as directed by the cook book, and added them to the bowl. He made the cake with the same care and precision as he made potions. Thus, he was confident that it was going to taste fabulous. As it baked, it smelled good, which made Draco smile in well-deserved pride.

After the cake came out of the oven and cooled down a bit, Draco carefully cut himself a small slice so that he could taste it and decide on a frosting to make when it came time to frost the actual cake Draco planned to make for Harry's birthday. Thinking of the last chocolate cake Harry had baked – two or three months ago – Draco anticipated this tasting like pure heaven. He took a bite and...

Nearly spit it right back out.

“What the bloody hell?!” He demanded as he scrutinized the cake. “This is _disgustingly_ sweet!”

Muffy paced closer to him and summoned a small bite to her mouth. “Too much sugar, Master.”

“But I followed the recipe!” Draco protested.

“Master, Muffy would be happy to bake a cake for Master Harry's birthday.”

“No!” Draco barked, nipping that in the bud. “Even though I measured carefully, I must have misread the amount of sugar required. I'll just do it over.”

Muffy levitated herself to get a better look at the cook book. “The problem might be the amount listed in the recipe.”

“Hush, Muffy!” Draco ordered with a frown. “I am _going_ to do this by myself!”

“As Master wishes...” Muffy murmured, lowering herself back to the floor and pacing away. Scorpius was at least half asleep. In Kreacher's arms, Albus was sleepily trying to grab hold of the elf's ear.

This time, Draco double and triple checked his measurements as he added them to the bowl. Once again, everything seemed to be going well, until it was time to taste the cake. In frustration, Draco actually did spit the bite out into a rubbish bin.

“Still too sweet! It's like eating chocolate flavored sugar!”

Which meant that Muffy had probably been right in that it was a problem with the recipe and _not_ with Draco's ability to bake a simple buggering cake. This made him feel slightly better. With a sigh, Draco started again, lessening the amount of sugar.

This time, the cake came out bitter.

Draco growled as he tried again. Happily, it came out almost perfect for sweetness, but it was so dry that it was hard to choke down. “What the buggering hell?!”

His next attempt was perfectly sweet, but it was so moist that it never fully set in the center before the edges began to burn. Kreacher and Muffy exchanged concerned glances as Draco threw the pan across the room. The loud clanging startled the sleeping infants, who promptly wailed in terror.

“Oh! I'm sorry!” Draco cried out, equal parts frustrated and sheepish.

Fresh bottles had the babies calm in practically no time, as did more bouncing and crooning by two rather amused house elves. Meanwhile, Draco decided that he _needed_ a bracing cup of tea before he did anything else. He glared at the recipe as he drank his tea, rubbing his head to ward off an oncoming headache.

When he felt ready to try again, Draco rolled up his sleeves in determination, not noticing that his robes were covered in flour and other bits of ingredients. Also, his hair was rather mussed, since he had pushed bits of it out of his face from time to time with his hands covered in flour – or damp from when he sloshed a little milk. As careful as he was, the more frustrated he got, the messier he grew.

This attempt straight up burnt.

“What the bloody fuck am I doing wrong?!” Draco roared to the charred wreck. “Harry can bake a perfect three tier cake in his bloody sleep!”

“Master Draco...” Muffy murmured hesitantly.

“No! No helping!” Draco insisted, unconsciously stomping one foot. “I can do this by myself! And thank Salazar's saggy tits that I have an entire sodding week because at this rate, it'll take every waking hour until then!”

As Draco worked, the elves busied themselves entertaining the babies. They also fed the boys as needed, and rocked them to sleep when bedtime arrived. Draco looked worse than ever but took a break to simply hold his sleeping babies as a way to calm down. Then he ordered that their crib be brought into the kitchen so that they could sleep as he baked – since they usually slept in bed with him and Harry, or in the crib next to their bed.

By morning, the kithen was a complete mess. Flour covered every surface; there were a few spills of milk and water; more than one egg had been thrown about in rage. And Draco himself looked like the very definition of a mad scientist – complete with blood shot eyes since he hadn't slept a wink.

Ron, Hermione, Pansy, and Blaise arrived around noon via the floo because they had plans with Draco to go shopping as a group for presents for Harry. They _hoped_ to not only find something good, but to avoid getting him the same things. All four friends looked around the kitchen in wide-eyed horror.

“What _happened_?” Pansy demanded in shock.

Draco looked more than half rabid as he spun around to face them. “I did it!” He crowed in triumph. Throwing out his hands, he indicated a row of perfect cakes. They were all chocolate, but each was slightly different. One had cherries in it. One had gooey fudge drizzled throughout. One was actually brownies with a cream cheese frosting. They were all frosted differently too, for eample, the cherry one had a cherry buttercream. “I made cake for Harry's birthday!”

“Er, mate...?” Ron ventured hesitantly. “It's a whole week before his birthday.”

“I know, _obviously_ ,” Draco sneered, looking like an absolute lunatic. “These are just practice cakes. I'm going to pick the one I like best to make on the day.”

“Draco, luv, perhaps I should get you cleaned up a bit before we go shopping,” Pansy murmured soothingly, making calming gestures so as to not spook the mad man.

“I can't go shopping!” Draco cried out in alarm. “I need you all to taste these cakes and tell me how they turned out. I think I lost all ability to taste chocolate sometime around three in the morning.”

“No problem!” Ron assured him with a grin as he summoned a plate and set about obtaining a large slice of each.

The four friends kept a wary eye on Draco as they took a good taste of each cake. Blaise positively adored the one that was made with coffee and had a creamy spiced frosting. Pansy favored the brownie. Ron thought they were all equally brilliant. Hermione politely tasted each, but was rather unimpressed with all of them since she was used to Harry's fantastic baking.

“Well? Which one do you think I should make for Harry's birthday?” Draco wondered avidly. He absently ate a depitted cherry from a bowl of them since he had eaten far more than his fair share of chocolate cake recently.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a significant look before Hermione nodded, indicating that she would say it.

“Er, _well_...” Hermione murmured gently. “It's not that Harry _hates_ chocolate, it's just that... it's not... his favorite...”

Draco was hit with a feeling of frustration, outrage, and like he really should have known this – that was so powerful that it knocked him off the stool he was sitting on. He banged his head on the floor but didn't even care as he lay staring up at the ceiling. “Of course he doesn't like chocolate...” he muttered unappreciatively.

“Draco!” Pansy cried out in alarm as she rushed to check on him. He let her help him into a chair with a nice supportive back.

“Don't worry, luv, I'm just tired...” Draco murmured, accepting a cup of tea from Muffy, who had made it as they were tasting cakes, despite having a child in her arms.

The twins still found the elves fascinating and could stare at them for hours if they were fed and clean, so they had been just fine during Draco's crash course in baking. They'd even been delighted to get a sample of cake every few hours when their father accidentally forgot that six months was still too young for sweets. They also giggled at his crazy appearance whenever he looked at them.

As Draco drank his tea, Blaise smirked at him. “Since when do you wear glasses?”

“Ah!” Draco gasped in horror as he snatched them off his face and shoved them in a pocket charmed to clean them and hide their shape from observation. “What glasses???”

Blaise snorted in amusement and grabbed them out of Draco's pocket. “These ones!”

“Never seen 'em before in my life,” Draco denied with a haughty sneer.

“ _Riiiight_ ,” Blaise drawled as he rolled his eyes.

“Oh fine!” Draco growled as he snatched them back from Blaise and shoved them in his pocket again. “I wear them when I'm reading. Alone. I forgot I was wearing them.”

“Why hide them?” Hermione wondered, her lips twitching in barely suppressed amusement.

Draco shrugged, and then sighed in defeat since he knew he probably couldn't come up with a convincing lie that made sense. “Because I spent years tormenting Harry for needing glasses. I don't think he'd do the same, I just... don't like needing them, I suppose.”

Pansy interrupted whatever Hermione was going to say. “Now that you've had a spot of tea, how awake are you?”

“Why?” Draco asked suspiciously.

Rather than answer, Pansy conjured up a mirror and held it in front of Draco so he could see his reflection.

“Merlin's hairy arse!” Draco blurted out in horrified dismay. “ _Why didn't you_ tell _me I looked like something a troll dragged in?!_ ”

Chuckling, Pansy took Draco by the hand and pulled him to his feet. “Come on, luv. I'll get you cleaned up while Ron and Blaise polish off the rest of these cakes.”

“Probably not _all_ of them,” Blaise demurred, waving his hand for emphasis.

Ron snorted. “Speak for yourself, mate.”

Pansy realized how exhausted Draco was on the way to his en suite shower. So, she stripped him off, cast a spell so that he couldn't slip as he leaned against the wall, and then scrubbed him up before rinsing him off. She knew him well enough to know which products were his and which were Harry's, so she didn't need to ask. When he was clean – and swaying even as he fought to keep his eyes open – she cast drying spells on him before helping him into his bed.

“Take a nap, luv,” she ordered as she kissed his cheek. “We'll go shopping in a couple of hours. In the meantime, I'm sure we'll have fun playing with your adorable babies. I might even fetch my girl from my mum, but I'm rather enjoying the break.”

Since Pansy's baby, Pearl, was only three months old, and had colic, Draco could understand wanting a break when possible. He hummed, which in his mind, was actual words saying something like: “Sure thing.” Then he was out cold.

Later that day, he really did go shopping with his friends. That was followed by dinner at a spendy restaurant. Taking advantage of the fact that his parents were watching the boys for the night, Draco got a solid night's sleep before trying his hand at baking a _different_ type of cake.

This time, he was even smart enough to ask Hermione what Harry's actual favorite was. Which was not as helpful as he'd like. Hermione's answer was that Harry liked _all_ cakes fairly equally, just not chocolate – which eplained why Draco only recalled Harry making such cakes about once a month on average.

He then racked his brains to see if he could remember _any_ cake Harry made on a regular basis, only to realize that Harry tended to make them all equally – as Hermione'd said. Frustrated all over again, Draco eventually decided to just make a variety of cakes and let all their friends vote on the best one.

This time wearing something he didn't mind getting dirty _and_ an apron, Draco rolled up his sleeves and threw himself into the task. A few hours later – as he was pulling an apple cinnamon cake out of the oven – a thought occured to him that made him frown.

Harry hadn't sent any Patronuses since the other night...

Biting his lip, Draco paced the kitchen. On the one hand, if he sent a Patronus, Harry might see it and be reminded that he'd forgotten to talk to Draco, as promised. On the other hand, Harry was probably in a meeting or working undercover – in which case, sending him a Patronus was a _bad_ idea.

Pulling on his hair as he paced, Draco decided that it was too risky to send a Patronus, but that an owl was not out of the question. Locating a sheet of stationary, Draco wrote: _My darling arsehole, why the fuck haven't you contacted me again as promised? Furiously yours, Draco_

After shoving the note into one of the special envelopes magically designed to be carried by owls, Draco addressed it to: _Harry James Malfoy-Potter, wherever the fuck he is in the world, probably Spain, on a mission, in which he's neglected to contact me as promised, the enormous prick!_

He had Muffy bring him his personal eagle owl from those bred at the Manor, attached the note to her leg, and then sent Melissande off with a kiss and the whispered instructions: “Find Harry and peck his head until he replies. Unless he's in battle with bad men, in which case, attack them and stick around to defend Harry.”

Melissande screeched in a blood curdling way that Draco interpreted to mean: _Sure thing boss!_ At a height of 75 cm (30 inches) and a wingspan of 188 cm (6'2”), Draco was certain that Melissande would make a formidable foe if needed.

Feeling slightly better, Draco returned his attention to his work. Now that he knew a little more about baking – and was trying recipes from a different cook book, one without typos that threw off the taste – he was actually rather enjoying his task. Once he had a good 15 cakes of all varieties (basically everything in the cook book), he moved on to try his hand at cheesecakes. As it turned out, his favorite was a no bake blueberry cheesecake that tasted like the nectar of the Gods themselves. He also made a strawberry chiffon pie that made him drool just reading the recipe because he _loved_ strawberry.

When all was said and done, he invited all his Slytherin friends over for a tasting. Then he invited Ron and Hermione because they actually knew what Harry liked and disliked. Besides, it wasn't the first time that the lesser two thirds of the golden trio had spent the day with Draco's friends.

Half an hour later, Millie and her husband Greg were the first to arrive. Draco had expected this as food had been mentioned in the invitation and Greg would sooner die than pass that up. Theo, his wife Daphne, and her sister Astoria stepped out of the floo next, having come from a visit with the Greengrasses. As a surprise, Lucius and Narcissa emerged from the floo next.

“Did you forget that we had your children?” Lucius asked acerbically.

“No,” Draco murmured with a shake of his head. “I simply planned to pick them up later on.”

“Sorry, love,” Narcissa apologized as she kissed him on the cheek. “As much as we love our grandsons, we have plans to leave for France in an hour.”

“Our Portkey leaves in 53 minutes,” Lucius corrected as he consulted his heirloom pocket watch.

Draco smiled at them as he took his sons. “Which leaves you just enough time to taste a few cakes before you go. Tea?”

“Of course, darling,” Narcissa stated graciously.

Ron and Hermione Apparated into the kitchen just then and immediately looked awkward. “Er...”

“Oh don't worry, Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasley,” Lucius sneered in a deceptively pleasant tone of voice. “We'll be out of your hair soon enough.”

Thankfully, Blaise and Pansy arrived before anyone had to reply. Pansy walked over to kiss Draco on the cheek. “Afternoon, luv. Wonderful to see you looking well and not like a pair of hippogriffs played Quidditch in the mud with you as their quaffle.”

Draco was tempted to roll his eyes at her. “Quite,” he muttered dryly.

“Wait, when did Draco ever look like that?” Daphne asked, definitely curious.

“The other morning, after Draco apparently spent the night learning to bake every sort of chocolate cake imaginable,” Blaise informed her.

“Oh?” Daphne and her sister both asked with definite interest.

“Are any of those cakes left?” Astoria wondered. She positively adored chocolate.

“In stasis. What's left of them,” Draco replied before sweeping his hand out to bring their attention to the array currently on the counter. “This is what I baked over the last two days. I need you all to help me figure out which one tastes the best.”

“On it!” Greg promised as he took a step toward the counter. His wife grabbed his arm and hauled him into a seat.

“Better let me dish you up so that there's enough for everyone else,” Millie insisted, making her friends chuckle.

“I'm afraid I must say the same,” Hermione added with a significant look at the man she had just recently married after nearly a decade of being engaged but too busy to plan out a wedding.

“Er, Draco?” Theo said, waving his hand in front of his friend's face.

“What?” Draco wondered with a frown.

“Are you aware that one of your twins has levitated an entire cake over and both are messily devouring it?”

“What?!” Draco blurted out in alarm as he looked down and saw that, yes, his boys were attacking a floating cake without his knowing it – despite them being in his arms! It was the apple cinnamon cake with spiced buttercream frosting, so Draco was certain that it had a decent amount of nutrition in it – _not_ that he ever planned to admit such a thing to Harry. Even so, it wasn't appropriate food for six month olds. “No boys! Kreacher, Muffy!”

“Yes Master,” both replied obediently as Kreacher snapped his fingers to return the cake to the counter while Muffy cleaned their hands and faces. And hair.

Draco growled softly in frustration when he realized that his robes were now an utter disaster too. He shifted the boys so that they were closer to his face. “Naughty naughty. Just like your daddy, I'm sure.” He then gave them each kisses before setting them in a floating playpen and handing them each extremely hard biscuits baked by Harry to chew on – which they loved to do since they had no teeth yet.

Having politely tasted at least three cakes each – and being rather surprised at how good they were considering who baked them – Draco's parents finished their tea and cast cleaning spells on his robes so that they could take turns hugging him goodbye. Narcissa kissed him on the cheek as she told him that the carrot spice cake was her favorite. Lucius preferred the lemon custard cake and insisted they had to leave that second so they didn't miss their Portkey.

After they were gone, Draco bit his lip in thought. So far, no one could agree on the best cake. Not to mention, Harry _still_ hadn't sent a Patronus or a return owl.

Just as he thought this, Melissande flew in the window he'd left open for her and perched on a stand in the corner. She was stained with a copius amount of blood and hooted sleepily, not really caring if Draco came over to her now or later. Of course, Draco rushed to see if she had a note from Harry, which she did.

Try as he might, even turning his back on all his friends so that he could slip his glasses on for a moment, Draco just couldn't read the messy chicken scratch that was Harry's hastily scribbled handwriting. With a sigh, he slipped his glasses back into his pocket and turned to glare at Ron and Hermione. “Which of you is better at reading Harry's writing?”

Hermione volunteered, then cast a spell on the note to turn the scribbling into neat and tidy words. With a smugly proud smile, she handed the note back to Draco. He snatched it, grumbling his thanks.

_Sorry! Too busy. Thanks for sending Mel. She savaged a wizard sneaking up on me and deserves her weight in dead mice. And a kiss. And probably a bath. I'll send a Patronus or an owl when I have a free moment. Love, Harry_

Feeling both grumpy and happy to hear from Harry, Draco slipped the dirty scrap of paper into his pocket and penned another note on his official stationary.  _See that you do, or I'll send a howler cursed to burn anyone in a seven meter radius when it explodes to shout at you. I miss you so much! Just remember that I expect you home by your birthday or everyone in Spain shall suffer my wrath. That sappy L word used by Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors alike, Draco_

The cake tasting turned into a proper party once Blaise raided the wine cellar – which contained centuries of different wines made by the Blacks before the first and second Wizarding Wars forced them to focus on other things. When everyone was nice and drunk, they decided that it would be _brilliant_ to play silly games such as spin the bottle and a stripping game that was a bit like bingo. A list of frequently used words were written in midair, and any time someone said one of the words, they had to take off a piece of clothing. This had been one of the more popular games in the Slytherin dungeon back in Seventh Year – which amused Ron and Hermione.

It rapidly became apparent that it was _impossible_ to avoid saying the words on the list once thoroughly pissed. For example, Hermione stubbed her toe, exclaiming bugger, which was on the list so she had to take something off, which embarrassed her enough to say bugger again and lose another item. And so on until she was starkers. Ron howled with laughter and invited her to sit on his lap so that he could preserve her modesty with his hands if she liked.

Harry's stag burst into the kitchen a few hours later. “Merlin's flatulent sphincter! _Do not send a howler!_ We're tracking the last criminal right now and I should be home on time. Please stop worrying so much, Draco. Love you!”

Greg tilted his head and stared at the list of words floating in the air. “Merlin's on the list. So is not, last, now, home, and you. That's six pieces of clothes, but who's suppose to take them off?”

“Draco, since they were said by _his_ husband!” Pansy insisted, which was promptly accepted and enforced by the rest of them.

“ _Damnit! I was winning this game!_ ” Draco roared when he was tossed naked back into his chair.

“Master,” Muffy interrupted timidly. “Young Masters Albus and Scorpius have managed to levitate out of their pen and crawl under the shelves. All is well, they are simply banging on pots, but Muffy wondered if Master wished for Muffy to stop them?”

Draco immediately felt like the worst father in the world. He wore an expression that suggested that he was certain he should simply murder himself and save his boys from his inadeqacy as a father. Or a responsible adult. Luckily, before he could find his wand and cast anything, Ron laughed and pounded him on the shoulder.

“Don't be so hard on yourself! Your boys are fine. Let 'em play. They have two elves keeping an eye on them to make sure they don't so much as sneeze without a tissue,” Ron pointed out, reminding Draco that this was true.

Sighing in relief, Draco nodded at Ron. “You're right. Muffy, please see to it that my sons are fed and entertained and take their nap on time.”

Of course, Master,” Muffy replied with a warm smile. She was doing so already, but knew that Draco would feel even worse when he sobered up if he realized that he had completely forgotten all about his precious babies. This way, he would know that they were safe and being taken care of. Honestly, Draco trusted Muffy – and by extention, Kreacher – so much that they were the reason he had allowed himself to get drunk with his friends in the first place.

Relaxing, Draco took another sip of blackberry wine.

The party lasted so long that by the time they all passed out and woke back up again, Draco barely had time to bake and decorate a cake before Harry was due home! Plus, he had a hangover that made it hard for him to concentrate and he was downright unpleasant to be around. As he baked, Millie and Hermione teamed up to make breakfast for everyone. They were all quiet as they sipped tea and waited for their hangovers to abate.

By the time Draco was putting the finishing touches on the moist and airy shortcake frosted with lightly sweetened whipped cream and slices of peeled plums, almost two hours later, the mood was dramatically improved. Nearly pleasant again. Nearly.

Draco gently placed a snitch made out of maple syrup sweetened creamcheese and real gold dust on the center of the cake, and then cast a stasis spell on the entire thing so that no one could touch it or ruin it in any way. _Finally_ , he had a moment to sit down and relax. And hold his adorable babies in his lap. He gave them each a dozen kisses and nuzzled their cheeks and necks with his nose.

Without warning, Harry returned home three hours earlier than expected – in a hurry because he wanted to prevent Draco summoning a muggle bomb and hurling it at Spain. He looked around his kitchen with deep curiosity. Everyone still looked a bit like they had just survived a shipwreck and months on a deserted island.

“Er... I didn't realize that we were having a theme party...” Harry murmured in amusement. “What's the theme, anyway?”

Pansy rolled her eyes and sneered at him. “The theme is that we're all still too hung over to be arsed about getting dressed or brushing our hair.”

Harry nodded in acceptance. “That looks about right. So... No one minds if I strip off then?”

“Have at it,” Theo permitted with a gracious wave of his hand. “After all, it's your house and your birthday. Happy birthday, by the way.”

“Happy birthday, Harry,” Hermione added with a tired but happy smile, prompting the rest of them to murmur the phrase too.

Draco bit his lip and frowned in concern as he looked Harry over and realized that the birthday boy was wearing tattered and bloodstained clothes, had a freshly healed gash and a copius amount of dirt on his face, and looked about a thousand times more disheveled than usual.

“What happened?”

Harry flapped his hand dismissively. “We caught the criminals, of course. More importantly, where are the boys?”

Draco held up his hands and looked at his lap in astonishment. “They were _right here_!!!”

Everyone looked around the kitchen until they spotted the boys sitting on the counter where the crumb laden remains of the previous cakes were still waiting to be finished off. The twins were merrily shoving fistfuls of cake into their mouths, into each other's mouths, and all over their hair.

“Boys!” Draco chided in alarm. “How in the buggering hell did you get up there?!”

Draco and Harry arrived at the counter at the same time. Each picked up a twin and provoked an unholy wrath by removing them from the bounty. Even as he bounced Scorpius soothingly, Harry surveyed the counter.

“Diiiid you start celebrating my birthday without me?” He asked slowly, not quite sure what to make of the mess.

“Not intentionally,” Draco said with a shrug. “I've never baked by myself before, so I had to be sure I did it right.”

Harry immediately got an expression on his face that was reminiscent of a pouting puppy dog with watery eyes. “You baked me a cake?”

“Several,” Draco stated dryly to cover his sudden embarrassment. He looked away nervously as he gestured to the pristine one floating over the stasis box.

Harry promptly squashed both their messy boys between them as he pulled Draco into a hug and gave him a demanding kiss. Ron and Theo groaned in repugnance while Hermione watched silently and the rest of the Slytherins chanted inappropriate encouragement.

“ _Merlin_ you're a bunch of slags!” Draco exclaimed with a blush after he broke off the kiss.

“Which is _exactly_ what you love about us,” Pansy assured him with a cheeky grin.

Meanwhile, Harry was busy retrieving the cake that said Happy Birthday in an elegant and flowy script. He wanted to taste it, but it was protected by Draco's magic. So, he thrust Scorpius into Hermione's arms and concentrated on breaking the spell. With a scrunched up face, furrowed brows, and his tongue sticking out just a bit, Harry quickly gave up on finesse and simply shattered the spell. Thankfully, the cake survived just fine.

“It looks incredible, Draco!” Harry gushed happily.

Draco ducked his head to hide another blush. “I hope you like it.”

“I love it!” Harry proclaimed without even trying it. He then held it up for everyone else to see. “Anyone want cake?”

Greg and Ron eagerly agreed as everyone esle groaned and put a hand over their stomachs.

“I'm not sure I _ever_ want to see another cake in my life!” Pansy informed him.

“I'm afraid I must agree,” Hermione said with a wince of sympathy.

Harry glanced at the counter and realized that they all must have gorged themselves at some point. “Alright...” Shrugging, he decided that he was going to start by eating the snitch, only to yelp in surprise when he touched it and it flew off the cake to zoom around the room. It spelled out: _Happy birthday you reckless idiot!_

Draco looked away and scratched the back of his neck. “I, er, _may_ have still been slightly upset with you when I charmed it to do that...”

Harry laughed and pulled Draco close again, jostling a still rather fussy Albus. “I speak Draco, remember? I know that this is code for that L word that Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors use.”

Draco preened a bit haughtily. “Well, if you want to think that, I won't stop you.”

Harry served a piece of cake to both Ron and Greg, and then dug into the rest of the cake with a fork. “This is really good!” He exclaimed sincerely with a grin.

Draco smiled but didn't say anything. He felt inordinately proud of himself for persevering in learning a new skill. Maybe he would make _all_ of Harry's birthday cakes from now on.

Harry got a pensive look on his face. “This is delicious, but for some strange reason, I'm actually craving chocolate cake.”

“AAAARRRRGH!” Draco roared as he thrust Albus into Pansy's arms. “I give up! I'm going to bed,” he stated as he stomped out of the room.

Harry felt horrified. “Draco! _Wait!_ I'm sorry, come back!” When Draco continued stomping away, Harry sent a helpless look to Hermione.

She and Ron winced and looked away evasively. Blaise burst out in raucous laughter, pounding Ron on the back. “And you said Potter hated chocolate!”

“Did not!” Ron denied with a vividly red blush.

“Look after the boys for me!” Harry ordered the room in general as he raced after his husband. By the time he caught up, Draco was already in bed.

“Go away!”

Harry ignored that and slid into bed. He then pulled Draco into his arms and dropped a kiss on his shoulder. “You want to know the only thing I really want for my birthday?”

Draco grumbled something that Harry interpreted as: “What's that?”

“This right here. Laying in bed with you in my arms.”

Draco was silent for a moment, then shifted until he was facing Harry. “I was so worried about you.”

Harry kissed him. “I know. I missed you too.”

“Happy birthday, you heroic idiot. I love you.”

Purring happily, Harry hugged Draco as tightly as possible. “I love you too, you prickly arse.”

Overjoyed to be together after a week apart, they simply snuggled until Pansy and Hermione brought the twins in to lay down for a nap. Harry shifted until the boys were between their dads and each had an arm around the both of them. Smiling at his husband – who had already fallen asleep – Harry drifted off, unable to think of a better way to spend his birthday than this.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love, please and thank you :-D


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